


Cheeky

by Kaslyna



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Choking, F/F, LadiesofPOI, Prompt Challenge, mild Dom/Sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root still showed irreverence when people tried to control or dominate her in any way-even when it’s a pleasant experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheeky

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt for LadiesofPOI on Tumblr.
> 
> The reason for the wait was school. And then apparently my concentration issues decided to make a comeback, for which I apologize. I signed up for this when they weren't an issue.
> 
> Anyways, my lady was Root, I'm doing Table A, and the prompt for this was 'cheeky'.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Root's relationship with authority of any kind had always been dismissive at best, and downright destructive at worst. Her casual disdain and irreverence tended to irritate the people in charge. Not that dealing with authorities was ever really an issue-Root made it a point not to get caught (unless, of course, that was part of her plan).

Of course, this flippancy wasn't limited to law enforcement, or even just the corrupt. Too many people had attempted to cage Root; some succeeded, but ultimately, all failed. Still, it had left her without blinders to the depravity of the world and the people within it-including her own faults and immorality. Even now, reformed as she was, Root still showed irreverence when people tried to control or dominate her in any way-even when it’s a pleasant experience.

Take now, for instance. Fading sunlight filtered through the windows of Shaw's apartment, illuminating the scratched wood of the tabletop Root was gripping as Shaw kissed her way down her neck. Root thinks, through the fog of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her at the feel of Shaw's teeth tugging her earlobe, that maybe Shaw being in control isn't _so_ bad. However, she's being way too slow; her hands bracketing Root's hips seem content staying where they are, and Root wants more. _Needs_ more.

A frustrated noise Root refuses to call a whine escapes her throat as Shaw's thumbs brush teasingly across the skin just above the waistband of Root's jeans. Root can feel Shaw’s smirk against her neck as she slowly moves her hands down to pop the button. The noise of the zipper being pulled down makes Root moan and bite her lip in anticipation, and she grips the table harder as she wonders what could come next.

Shaw shoves her hand roughly down Root’s pants, cupping her above her underwear in the limited space the jeans allow. Root can’t help the hiss that escapes her mouth, or the way her hips jerk towards Shaw’s hand in an attempt to gain more pressure where she needs it most. But Shaw removes her hand and Root groans, debating over whether or not she can slip her own hand down her pants and get herself off before Shaw stops her.

“You really like this,” Shaw breathes in her good ear, as one of her hands slides under Root’s shirt and up her stomach to cup one of her breasts through her bra. She begins to knead, slowly, before she focuses her attentions on Root’s nipple through the thin fabric, rolling and pinching it, coaxing it into a sharp point.

“I’d like it more if you just fucked me,” Root breathes, unable to stop herself when Shaw’s other hand comes to her other breast.

“Are you begging?” Shaw asks, sounding entirely too innocent considering where her hands are. The heat in Root’s belly and between her legs is unbearable, an inferno she wishes Shaw would encourage.

“I don’t beg,” Root narrows her eyes, affronted at the insinuation. Any offense she’d taken disappears though when Shaw pulls away, only to grip the hem of Root’s shirt and tug it up and off.

“Sure,” Shaw agrees, but it’s muffled by the skin of Root’s upper back, where she’s begun to kiss and bite her way down.

When she gets to Root’s bra, Shaw pulls back long enough to unclasp it and push it somewhat down Root’s arms before she goes back to kissing her, biting at a freckle that had been obscured by the band of Root’s bra. Root halfheartedly shakes her arms so the bra falls to her wrists before she’s too focused on Shaw’s mouth on the middle of her back to finish removing it.

Root can feel the hint of a smile on Shaw’s face against her back as Root tenses when Shaw places her hands on her ass. Shaw slowly moves her hands up to hook her thumbs under the waistband of Root’s pants and underwear. Shaw pushes both down slowly, taking her time so she can run her thumbs across Root’s ass before she shoves both down completely. Shaw allows Root to kick them off completely before brushing Root’s hair over her right shoulder so she can kiss at Root’s neck.

Root is shaking, she’s aware of that; she’s not entirely sure how Shaw had managed to pin her against this table, and at first she wasn’t complaining, but now Shaw’s going too slow and it’s not enough. Root is so focused on Shaw’s mouth that she doesn’t notice until it’s too late that Shaw’s hands are over hers, using the bra still around Root’s wrists to tie her hands together. In the back of Root’s mind she knows she can easily get out of it, but then one of Shaw’s hands is on her breast and the other is splayed across her hip and she can’t focus on anything but the sensations Shaw’s arousing within her.

“Sameen,” Root is alarmed at the sound of her voice, a pleading whine that ends in a moan as Shaw’s hand moves from her breast to her ass.

Then Shaw’s hands are off her body altogether and Root lets out a frustrated noise. Her skin feels too hot, and the tension is unbearable. She registers soft sounds, like Shaw’s taking off her clothes maybe. Shaw slides one hand across Root’s lower back to rest on her hip, and Root can feel the heat from Shaw’s body so close to hers but not touching. Shaw’s breath is too hot against the skin of Root’s back and she bites her lip to keep herself from saying anything else.

“Are you just gonna stand there, Sameen?” Root asks, frustrating seeping into her voice.

In response, Shaw’s hand strikes Root’s ass once, twice, three times, and the stinging sensation is more pleasure than pain. Root is gasping, her moans so loud that if she were the self-conscious type she’d be embarrassed. Shaw coaxes Root to bend over the table further with a hand pushing on her hip; Root goes more willingly than she would’ve liked, her knees too weak to protest. Shaw’s hand moves from Root’s hip across her stomach and down between her legs, circling her finger around Root’s clit teasingly. Shaw retracts the hand to grab at Root’s ass. Before Root can protest, she feels the tip of what must be a strapon at her entrance, waiting for permission. Root undulates her hips backwards into Shaw, who groans and pushes in.

“Were you wearing this all day?” Root wonders as Shaw thrusts into her, slow but rough.

Shaw grunts in answer, her hands moving to Root’s hips. She moves one of her hands up Root’s side to cup her breast again, and Root gasps at the sensation of Shaw’s fingers pinching her nipple, a bit too rough; a reprimand. Her other hand grips Root’s hip so hard Root wonders if she’ll have a hand-shaped bruise the next day.

“Did you spend your day off here, waiting for me to finish my number, thinking about fucking me?” Root continues, grinning.

“Shut up,” Shaw growls, and her next thrust is particularly hard, causing Root to cry out louder than she had before.

“Sameen,” Root gasps.

Shaw understands what Root stubbornly refuses to ask for, and decides to be generous. Root needs it rougher, harder; this is almost too gentle, and Root doesn’t know what to do with that. She’s been underneath Shaw before, but it had never been this… playful, perhaps, is the wrong word, but it’s the only one Root can think of to label Shaw’s behavior this late afternoon. Root’s musings trail off as Shaw’s hand moves from her breast to her throat, beginning to squeeze as her thrusts become faster and rougher. The table bangs into the wall with the force of it, and as Root’s oxygen gets cut off she can feel her orgasm beginning to rise within her.

“Sam,” Root rasps, and Shaw responds, squeezing tighter than she already had been (tight enough for Root’s vision to fog and stars to appear and her lungs to begin screaming in protest).

Root claws desperately at the table with her bound hands as her orgasm overtakes her. Shaw continues her thrusts within Root as well as the pressure on her neck, prolonging the orgasm. As Root begins to come down, Shaw lets go of Root’s neck and slows her thrusts until she stops. Root gasps, her lungs filling with air again. Shaw gives her a moment to collect herself before she pulls out of her, waiting with a hand still on Root’s hip for her to return to her senses.

Root turns, once she has, holding her wrists out to Shaw with raised eyebrows. Shaw rolls her eyes but undoes the bra anyways. The moment it’s off Root grins wickedly, drinking in the familiar sight of Shaw’s naked body. Shaw lets her, taking in the redness at Root’s throat; there’ll be a bruise that can’t be easily explained, and Shaw doesn’t bother to hide a small smirk at that.

“As much fun as that was,” Root’s grin gets improbably wider, “I think I prefer being on top.”

Root tugs at the harness, pulling Shaw closer so she can undo it. Root removes the dildo, flinging it carelessly aside. The harness falls to the ground, and Root waits for Shaw to step out of it before she grabs her, turning them and placing Shaw on the table with ease. Shaw rolls her eyes, and Root smiles up at her as she kneels in front of her, nudging Shaw’s legs apart.

“Mm,” Root hums happily as she tastes Shaw, glancing up at her to gauge Shaw’s reaction, “Much better.”

Shaw wishes she could disagree, but Root’s tongue-and eventually her teeth and fingers-make it impossible. If this is what Root’s version of being on top is, Shaw will take it. Root might be a pain in the ass when it comes to be underneath her, but Shaw knows she likes it; Shaw’s reward afterwards is enough evidence.

Root smirks against Shaw’s inner thigh as if she’s read her mind, and then she resumes the task at hand. There’ll be time to be cheeky later.


End file.
